


A Gift Undeserved

by Karis_Artemisia_Judith



Series: Coming Home [2]
Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: F/M, Love, Reunion Sex, Reunions, Tender Sex, Tenderness, True Love, forwever, will fowwow woo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-10 11:54:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2024163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karis_Artemisia_Judith/pseuds/Karis_Artemisia_Judith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years ago, when Anna told Kristoff that she wouldn’t be allowed to marry him, he kissed her goodbye while she slept and disappeared…but when he returns to the city and Anna finds him, he learns that not only has Anna (with Elsa’s help) convinced everyone that she and Kristoff were married, but that after he left she gave birth to twins.<br/>Now, truly married, Anna and Kristoff have the wedding night they thought could never be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Gift Undeserved

**Author's Note:**

> This is a follow-up to [Looking Back](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1771054), which is in turn a continuation of jenniferjuni-per's painfully lovely ['Don’t Look Back’](http://jenniferjuni-per.tumblr.com/post/87678401652/frozen-kristoff-week-day-3). You could read this story on its own, but it’s much better in context!

Kristoff stepped into the bedroom hesitantly, feeling like an intruder. The countless nights he’d spent re-living memories that had taken place in this room only caused a pang of guilt and pain in his chest—three years of retracing his steps in his imagination, instead of being here in truth. Three years of Anna waking up alone because he hadn’t been strong enough to stay beside her.

“Kristoff?”

He blinked away the thought of that last cold morning and looked down at his wife. She was biting her lip, glancing up at his face and then at the doorway. He realized he’d left the door hanging open when he lurched to a stop just over the threshold.

“Is this…is this okay?” Anna asked finally. “I mean—do you want to stay here? You don’t have to, there’s other rooms if you—I mean, there’s  _so_  many rooms, you don’t have to sleep here, if you don’t want, I wasn’t thinking about—I just—“ She trailed off awkwardly and shrugged, ducking her head, but she looked up again quickly as the door latch clicked.

 

Kristoff lifted his hand from the doorknob and took another step into the room. “It’s okay,” he said quietly. “If…if it’s what you want, Anna.”

A smile lit up her face and she reached out to catch his hands in hers, tugging him forward. “It’s what I want,” she told him, her head tilted back so that she could look up at him, icy flowers sparkling in her hair.

The flowers had been Elsa’s contribution to their wedding, a ceremony that had taken place in secret, since they were supposed to be married already. It had not, he was very sure, been the wedding of Anna’s dreams—it had been performed after dinner in the dark chapel, with only a circle of candles to alleviate the gloom instead of hundreds of bright lights. There had been no decorations, no music, and no people except Elsa, the bishop, and Kai and Gerda as witnesses. Anna hadn’t even changed her day dress for an evening gown before dinner—she was still wearing the blue skirt and cream colored bodice he’d first seen her in that afternoon, when she’d found him in the city and begged him to come back with her. It was only at the last moment that Elsa had tugged her sister into the shadowy vestibule, and Anna had emerged with a crown of delicate flowers that glittered like crystal against the loose waves of her bright hair.

Kai had sniffled into his handkerchief throughout the short ceremony and finally burst into noisy tears that interrupted the bishop’s pronouncement that the couple could kiss, and the thing Kristoff had longed for (well, one of the things) for three years had been limited to a chaste peck before Anna had turned away to comfort her old friend until he was calm enough to sign his name to the register. Then Gerda had given Kristoff a tearful but enthusiastic kiss on the ear, because she was crying too much to see, and everyone had wanted to hug Anna, even the dignified clergyman. His new sister-in-law had kissed him on the cheek, rather than the ear, although she had taken advantage of the proximity to murmur “I, of all people, understand what you were trying to do when you left, but—” she’d lifted her chin slightly. “If you ever leave her again, I will personally hunt you down and give you back to Anna on a leash.” Then she’d turned away to embrace her sister, leaving him to stare open-mouthed at her back.

And then it had been over, and they’d left the others to extinguish the candles in the chapel while they took a candle of their own up the stairs, and now he was alone in a bedroom with his wife. The words kept repeating in his mind, as if they were in a foreign language that he couldn’t quite understand. Anna,  _his wife._

He lifted a hand slowly, his fingertips tracing over the delicate curve of her jaw, cupping her chin carefully, as if she might dissipate into mist at any moment. But her skin was soft against his fingers, and when he bent his head her lips were warm and real, moving in response to the cautious brush of his kiss. Anna pressed her mouth closer to his, but he held back. He’d been cheated earlier, and he wanted to savor this, to impress it on his memory in case he woke up and it was a dream. He started to part his lips, deepening the kiss, but Anna suddenly pulled back.

"I should probably take this off," she said, lifting the circlet of ice from her head. "I mean, I’m not sure Elsa made it permanent—she keeps practicing, but she hasn’t quite figured out what makes some things stay frozen and other things melt after a while, and if it started to melt while—I mean…it would kind of kill the mood, I mean. If there was a mood. I’ll just—um." She hastily dumped a small pile of dried lavender out a tray that had a low lip, and set the ice flowers aside. When she turned back to him she was biting her lip, her hands curling together in front of her stomach. Kristoff felt his throat tighten, something in his chest knotting as she stepped toward him. His wife.

His hands lifted, trembling fingertips lightly brushing over her hair, the burnished copper glowing in the light of the candles, over her cheeks, her shoulders, down her arms to rest lightly against her waist, hesitant. Anna studied his face. “Kristoff?”

He shook his head, his lips parting, then closing again as he struggled to find words for the feelings that were finally crashing down over him. He’d gone through most of that day in a daze, waiting to wake up, alone and chilled somewhere in the wilderness, his life a bleak, cold emptiness, but with Anna warm under his hands he knew that this was real. She was real, and she was his wife. He hadn’t imagined that he could love her more than he had three years ago, when he’d torn his heart out in order to leave her. He hadn’t imagined that she could mean  _more_  to him, but he’d been wrong.  She was his wife. She was the mother of his children.  She was his whole world.

Kristoff couldn’t speak. Instead his sank to his knees on the carpet in front of her, his arms wrapping around her waist, his face hidden against her stomach. Soft, questioning fingers slid through his hair, and his hold on her tightened. He didn’t deserve her, but she insisted on giving herself to him. He didn’t deserve anything, after running in the night like a coward, but Anna had dragged him reluctantly home and then given him everything he had wanted, everything he had believed he could never have. Anna, who had given him her heart and let him keep it, even when he abandoned her.

He held on to her like a drowning man to a raft, slight shudders shaking his shoulders. “Kristoff?” Anna’s hands stroked his hair gently, and one small, warm palm moved to rest against the back of his neck, cradling his head. His eyes were warm and wet, but the tears were blotted by the fabric of her dress. She let him cling to her without question for several long minutes. Finally she pushed lightly at his shoulders, and he loosened his grip enough to let her sink down until she was kneeling in front of him. Anna reached up to take his face in her hands and he closed his eyes.

"Are you all right?" she asked. "I know it’s a lot, everything today, and—is it too much?"

He shook his head, looking at her concerned eyes. “I just—I—Anna—” His hands were shaking as he brought them up to cup her face as she did his, and he rested his forehead against hers. “I love you,” he whispered, his thumbs stroking over the soft freckled skin of her cheeks. “I love you so much. I tried not to think about you because it hurt too much, because it was like…it was like something had been cut out of my body and it never healed. But I could never stop remembering you. No matter how much I tried to push you away, you were always with me. I dreamed about you. I kept…I kept waking up, saying your name.” He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, pressing his face into her hair, and he felt her hold onto him, her hands gripping his shirt. “I should never have left you,” he said hoarsely.

"It’s okay," she said, her arms tightening. "I understood. I did. I mean—I was upset, and I guess I was angry, and scared—I was  _so_  scared. But I understood. You thought you were doing what was best for me.”

He shook his head. “I told myself I was, but—Anna, I was just a coward. I was protecting myself from being hurt, or I thought I was. I gave up. I should have stayed. I should have fought to be with you. I’m sorry, Anna—”

"I forgive you." She turned her head, her lips lifting to touch the corner of his mouth tenderly. "I forgive you. I—" she laughed a little, a smile on her face. She brushed the hair back from his eyes. "I can promise to forgive you anything," she said, "if you kiss me now."

Kristoff kissed her so quickly and fervently that she squeaked in surprise as his mouth came down on hers, but when he started to draw back her arms locked around his neck to keep him in place. One of his hands cradled her head, fingers lost in her hair, while the other curled around her back, holding her tight against him. This time it would have taken the castle coming apart around them to stop him from tasting her, from parting his lips to brush his tongue against her, from delving in to the sweetness of her mouth, still familiar after all this time. She tasted like summer and warmth and  _Anna_. She tasted like home.

He kissed her until they were both gasping for air, and then began to kiss her face, her cheeks and her chin and her delicate jaw. He kissed her neck, the curve of her shoulder, the hollow at the base of her throat, but always he kept coming back to her lips, hungry for her, kissing her as if she might disappear. Anna shifted so that she was straddling his lap, moving closer to him, and a ragged groan burst from him as her slight weight pressed against his hips. She moved again, and took advantage of his distraction to press her own kisses against his neck, her tongue a flickering softness that tasted his skin. Kristoff ran shaking hands over her back, hips, and when she bit lightly at his shoulder he gripped her backside, his hips lifting to grind against her, earning him a sweet, whimpering moan. His hand in her hair guided her mouth back to his, and then his fingers were stroking over her, feeling the texture of her stockings under the crumpled hem of her skirt, shoving the fabric up and out of the way so that he could run his hands up her legs to find the silky skin of her thighs.

Small hands grasped at his shoulders as he drew circles with his fingertips, traced the edge of her stocking until he reached the vulnerable, delicate skin of her inner thigh, so tantalizingly close to her heat. He knew his hands were rough with callouses, rougher and harder than they had been the last time he touched her, but Anna didn’t seem to mind. She sighed against his lips, her breath hitching. Soft red hair fell across his shoulder as she hid her face against his neck, whimpering, her fingers fumbling at the collar of his shirt so that she could press her lips to his collarbone. His hand paused questioningly at the crease of her hip and she lifted her face to kiss him hard.

"Please," she whispered.

When his fingers slid over her she cried out, her back arching so much that he wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her. He bent his head to nuzzle against her chest, kissing her through the green vines and red flowers that lined the edge of her bodice. Anna brought up shaking hands to tug open the front of her shirt, the top half of her bodice, but then she had to grip his shoulders, gasping as his fingers slid delicately up and in. He pressed his face into the soft skin she’d exposed, breathing in her scent, kissing and sucking gently, but then Anna’s hips bucked against him, her voice rising in a ragged cry.

“ _Kristoff_.”

Something broke in him and three years of want, of  _need_  seemed to flood him. He lifted his head, pulled his fingers away from her, her soft whimper at the loss swallowed by a gasp as he pressed her back against the thick carpet, as he shifted forward so that her open thighs rested higher on his, as his hands went to his trousers.

"Shirt," she managed to say. "Or it gets in the way. Remember?"

His lips twitched with a smile—he did remember, all the early lessons they’d learned together, but when the shirt came off the smile had gone with it, and his eyes were dark with want. He shoved the trousers down, freeing the hard length that ached so badly, and leaned over her, one hand supporting him and the other lifting her hips, tilting them as Anna arched her back.

He drove into her and she gasped, but when he tried to ask if she was alright, if he’d hurt her, Anna only pulled on his hair to make him kiss her, gripping his hips with her legs and pushing herself up against him. Kristoff gave himself up to his primal need for her, burying his face in her shoulder, the fingers of one hand in her hair as he used the other to hold her against him, steadying her against his hard thrusts as he buried himself deep and fast into her. He heard her whimpering, gasping breaths, felt her soft, clinging heat, and when she wailed his name he shattered completely, hips jerking raggedly as the hot surge of release overcame him. It left him shaking, his breath hot and rough as he sagged, curled over her, his weight caught on his elbows.

"Anna," he whispered, her name like a prayer on his lips. Then his eyes widened and his head jerked up. "Anna, are you alright?" Three years, and after everything he lost control completely and took her roughly, on the  _floor_ —if he’d hurt her—but when he looked down at Anna her eyes were glittering with something other than tears, and she grasped his shoulders, pulling herself up and pressing her mouth to his in a hot, open kiss.

"I love you." Her lips brushed over his jaw, his neck, came back to touch warmly to his. "Kristoff, I love you."

He sat back on his heels, his hands coming up to support her back, holding her against him. He wanted to hold her to him forever. “I love you, Anna.”

"Yes," she murmured, her mouth hovering over his. "Love me, Kristoff."

"Anna, I—" Her legs tightened around his waist, making him gasp, and he realized what she meant.

“ _Love_  me,” she whispered. He kissed her, feeling even through his sated haze the fresh desire stirring in his gut, answering hers.

Hands sliding down to support her, Kristoff managed to get to his feet with Anna still wrapped around him, and carried her to the bed. He knelt on the counterpane and bent to lay her down. For a moment he just looked at her, sweet and disheveled, her hair a tousled halo around her face, her breasts peaking coyly from her half-undone bodice. None of his many dreams had been able to do justice to how beautiful she was. Work roughened fingers brushed over her cheek and her eyes closed, her head turning to press into the touch.

"I love you," he said. His fingers brushed down her neck and chest, moving to unfasten the neglected lower half of her bodice, and then the buttons of the blouse beneath. Kristoff was determined to love her properly, this time, and he unwrapped each layer from her body as delicately as if it was fragile tissue paper. The cream colored bodice with its bright embroidery of green vines and red roses, the pale blue blouse with its row of ivory buttons, the darker blue skirt, its hem faintly stained with grass from when Anna had knelt on the ground in the garden and introduced him to their children. Anna lay quietly, letting him undress her, shifting only when he needed her to move so he could pull away an article of clothing.

Her stockings were the last things to be removed, the loosened garters falling away and his hands slowly slipping down her legs to slide the soft fabric off of her softer skin. Anna, bare and lovely, made his throat constrict as she smiled at him. “You too,” she said, glancing down, and he realized he was still half dressed. Boots and trousers were hastily kicked away, and Anna pulled him to her.

Getting reacquainted with her body was a slow task, and Kristoff lingered over every part of her. He kissed his way down her torso, after dwelling over her breasts until she was moaning, noting the subtle changes in her—a small, new scar on her upper arm, more softness and curve in her stomach, her hips, and, spreading in a fan over the sides of her lower belly, a faint tracery of silvery lines. His fingers brushed over them delicately.

"What are these?"

Anna lifted up on her elbows to look down, and blushed. “Oh. Um…they’re from, from carrying the twins. The skin stretches, and it leaves marks after—but they’re fading.” She put a hand down to cover the stripes but he lifted it away, holding it in his as he bent over her, kissing the lines tenderly. They were scars she had because of him, the reminder that she’d carried his children in her body, the evidence of yet another gift that she’d given him. He carefully pressed his lips to each one. His attention to the sensitive skin over her hip made Anna squirm and whimper, her hands tugging in his hair to draw him back up to her.

"Kristoff, please," she murmured, kissing him. He combed his fingers through her hair, kissing her lips, her face, her chin, her neck. She pressed close to him, her soft body rubbing against his hardness, and he moved to rest between her legs carefully, studying her. Anna had gotten calmer, but her arousal was still evident in the darkness of her eyes, in the unconscious rocking of her hips as he caressed her breasts. He held her hips in his hands gently, and when she looked up into his face he slid slowly into her, rocking back with every push forward, so that by the time he was seated in her she was whimpering.

Their rhythm was slow, unhurried, interspersed with long, lingering kisses. One arm curled around her shoulders, holding her to him while he supported his weight on his elbow. His free hand stroked through her hair, over her side, up her back, the soft whisper of skin over skin a counterpoint to the rustle of bedclothes and the slick sound of their joining. Anna clung to him, her body wrapped around him, soft sighs of pleasure deepening to moans as his hand found its way between them to tease against her, and soon enough she was arching against him again, whimpering against his neck as he gasped into her hair, the shudder and squeeze of her body pulling him after her into climax.

Kristoff held her close to him, feeling her soft breath on his shoulder, the thump of her heartbeat. “I love you.”

She settled closer to him. “I love you. I missed you.” He pressed apologetic kisses to her temple, his hand smoothing up her back. Her eyelids were sliding shut and she fought to keep them open. Kristoff noticed, and a painful half smile twisted his mouth. He laid his hand at the back of her neck, cradling her head as she had his earlier that evening.

"I’m not going anywhere," he whispered. "I’m never leaving you again. Anna, I—"

The memory of that long ago night was painfully close, the thought of the long years without her, the time he had missed. Anna lifted herself up to lean over him, and he could see the memories in her face as well, but unlike that night it was she who whispered soft reassurances, kissing the tears away from his face, until he fell asleep with his cheek resting against her heart. 


End file.
